


History Lost

by planningconquest



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Leaves, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, F/M, Outbound Flight, Shmi Skywalker Lives, The sith are persuasive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-28 05:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18749875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planningconquest/pseuds/planningconquest
Summary: In the middle of an investigation, Anakin crashes in the middle of a planet and wakes up to the middle of a conspiracy.Padme Amidala is searching for her missing husbands and stumbles across an alien named Thrawn.





	1. A new Sith Lord

A heavy metallic clang, accompanied by a low, unamused grunt, startled Anakin until he was almost awake. Aware of the noises around him, and the sensations that swirled through the Force. The noise of water running down a drain-pipe, the steady breathing and heartbeat of the woman leaning over him. Hair brushed against his face, and he felt them breathe a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure he could have been dreaming, because it sounded exactly like the one his mother used to heave every time he returned from one of Watto’s races. Alive and relatively unscathed. 

“Will he be alright?” Anakin’s managed to twitch a finger, feeling his body slowly wake up. There was so much pain; he felt as if his bones were trying to walk away without the rest of him. 

“He should be,” the second voice was also female. Unlike the first, she sounded angry. 

“I should be with him when he wakes. He’ll be confused and afraid.” 

“It isn’t safe,” the second rebuked, “he’s dangerous. The only reason I haven’t killed him if for your benefit. My mercy doesn’t extend far enough to keep him alive if he proves dangerous.” 

“Anakin is not dangerous to you!” Some rested a hand on his head, gently brushing his hair away from the bandage. “He isn’t dangerous to anyone!” 

“Tell that to the Separatists that hired assassins to kill him.” Anakin twitched, trying to rouse himself to full wakefulness. “Tell that to the planets he’s helped conquer. Anakin Skywalker is one of the most dangerous Jedi to exist.” 

“He will.” The voice, so familiar and yet not, wavered. “Please, you can’t hurt him.” 

“That is not up to me,” the comforting hand on his head vanished. 

“It is,” she insisted, “if you let him live so far, you can keep him alive.” 

“If he is not a danger to my enterprise,” the second promised, “he lives. You need to go; get some sleep.”

There was another sigh, the metallic clang; and Anakin knew they were alone. He felt his cheek twitch as he tried to wake up, to move past the barrier keeping him under. 

“You won’t manage like that,” the voice hovered over him, “but I’m surprised you managed this far.” 

You’ll find that I’m full of surprises, Anakin thought, still thrashing around to try and wake up. It was so strange, like an intense form of sleep paralysis. 

She touched his forehead with two fingers, and Anakin’s eyes snapped open. He jolted upright, gasping for breath. He didn’t make it very far, the bandages winding around his torso and every single limb had him crashing back onto the cot with an agonized grunt. He focused on the woman after a second of trying to breathe calmly. 

She was tall, possibly taller than Anakin. Stocky, with broad shoulders and thick legs, encased in swathes and swathes of black and gray fabric, and heavy black boots. The style all but screamed Sith, and Anakin leaned against the cot as he focused on the lightsaber hilt hooked onto her belt. Eventually, his eyes trailed up her torso and toward the high collar and then onto her face — Square, with a strong jaw and somewhat sunken cheeks. Her hair was shorn short, black and graying; brilliant amber eyes glared down at him. 

“Good morning,” she said, An Anakin found himself at a loss. “Your ship crashed down on my moon, miraculously surviving the rings and the hurricane. You were brought here when you were found; this was two weeks ago. I would have killed you, but someone advocated on your behalf.” 

“Ow,” Anakin raised his arm to his head and gaped at the empty spot. “Where’s my arm?” 

“It was critically damaged in your wreck; they had to dig bits of it out of your torso, Skywalker.”

“Oh,” Anakin felt something scratch his hair anyway, and he lowered his arms. “My men? Did any of my men survive? Where is the fleet?” 

“I don’t know,” she said shortly, “what were you doing in this sector?”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” Anakin shook his head. He tried to sit up, only to feel his body seize up as an invisible hand gripped his throat and hoisted him off the cot. He gagged, trying to yank the grip off his neck, the sudden violence of it left him winded and gasping as she let him go. 

“You won’t be at liberty to breathe if you don’t talk, Skywalker. Why was the Republic fleet in this sector?” Anakin massaged his neck, and rolled off the cot, pushing her back with the Force as he did so. He must have surprised her, because she slid back, not as far as he would have wanted. He was across the room in a force assisted leap. Before he could reach the door, something seized him around the middle, yanking him back and hurling him to the ground. He yelled in pain writhing as the woman approached, stomping angrily on his chest. “Answer the question, Skywalker.” 

“That’s classified,” he yelled again as the pain died worsened. 

“If not for your own sake, Skywalker, then for your little clone soldiers. Rex? Was his name?” 

“Don’t you dare hurt him,” Anakin ground out, he pulled desperately on the Force. It slipped from his hands like oil on water, the darkness around him only deepened as he tried again. She was a black hole, sucking the light from the room and almost sucking the air from his lungs.

“What was your fleet doing here? This is a no-fly zone. Why are you here?” 

“There were reports of a missing shipment of goods,” Anakin finally hissed out, he glowered past the heavy boot and armor into the woman’s eyes. “We were asked to investigate.” 

“Who asked you to investigate?” 

This time Anakin’s hatred and disgust weren’t directed at the unfamiliar Sith holding him down. “It was a Hutt,” he spat.

“Which one?” 

“Gardulla.”

“The same one who lost you and your mother in a bet?” Anakin nodded and froze.

“What?” 

“That same scum you used you as a line of credit? The exact same being who is responsible for your scars?” 

“How do you know that?” She lifted her boot off his chest, and he scrambled to his feet. “How do you know that?” He hadn’t told anyone that. Obi-Wan didn’t know, Padme did, but she would never talk. “How do you know?” 

“How could you investigate such claims for a beast like Gardulla?” Anakin stepped back as lightning seemed to crackle around her. “Her crimes against you and your mother and you still did what you were told.” 

“I didn’t have a choice!” Anakin protested, and he scoffed. “I am a Jedi; I go where the council tells me.” 

“I’m sure you do,” she waved a hand through the air, lightning erupted from her fingertips. “Ever the loyal pet, aren’t you?” 

Too surprised to say anything, Anakin could only stare. 

“For your information, Skywalker, the missing goods were slaves.” 

“You didn’t answer my question. How do you know about Gardulla?” 

“That is irrelevant, Skywalker,” She moved toward the door, “go back to sleep. Your temper tantrum won’t help you heal.” 

“You didn’t answer my question,” thoughtlessly he grabbed her arm, only to yell as she twisted his arm away and threw him across the room for a second time. He slid down the wall, groaning. 

She loomed over him, eyes full of violent promise. “Touch me without my permission again, Skywalker, and I will kill you.” She was gone in a second, the door clanging shut behind her. Anakin let his head rest against the floor, confused and frightened.

#$#$#$

Sunlight filtering through lacy curtains and a soft breeze that smelled grass-like woke Rex. He wasn’t aware of the room, only the ache in his body and the fuzziness of his brain that he attributed to the drug. 

“Good morning, Captain,” his eye flickered open, and he caught sight of a woman standing just a few feet away. She was old, older than most women he had ever seen. Her face weatherbeaten and tired, but she smiled. Her long dress was plain and practical, made of a rough material that Rex bet Senator Amidala would die before touching. She was tall too, probably taller than his general. Rex jolted, and she inched closer. 

“You don’t have to worry, Captain. You’re safe. No one here will hurt you.” 

“Where is General Skywalker? Is he alright?” 

At this, she grimaced, “Anakin is alright; he’s alive.” 

“What happened?” He tried to sit up, but fell back, hissing in pain. “We were flying through the system. We had to….the rings; there was some interference. Where am I? Who are you?” He scanned her face again. She looked familiar; something tugged at the back of his mind. “Do I know you?” 

“You know part of me,” she smiled and approach, “lay back, Captain Rex. You’ve been injured badly. That was a nasty wreck.” 

“I don’t remember,” he obeyed, and finally took in the room. It was beautiful, even by Rex’s woefully undereducated tastes. The walls were tall and painted with landscape murals; the ceiling painted to look like the sky. He turned his head to glanced out the window at a brightly colored treeline. Rising into the sky in a set of graceful blue and red arches, were the rings around the moon. They were angles, and he could almost see the trail he and Anakin had made while wrecking through. Rex clenched his hands in the blanket and glanced down. It was a soft blue, and softer than anything he’d ever felt. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the palace of the local lord. Don’t worry; she doesn’t have anything against individual clone troopers.” 

“Good?” The unfamiliar woman knelt beside the bed. She smiled, almost laughing. 

“You don’t seem very afraid.”

“I’ve never been woken up by a beautiful woman,” Rex tried to smile, and the woman began to laugh as she lifted his hands and began to examine the bandages. 

“It has been decades since anyone has called me beautiful,” she told him. There was an awful weight to her words that Rex wasn’t sure how to interpret, but he could tell she was upset.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “that wasn’t polite. I didn’t mean that. Well, I did mean that you’re beautiful. It’s just; I didn’t mean to say it so…awfully. I mean, you are beautiful, but then mentioning that like that is just rude. I’ve read the pamphlets. Usually, I wake up to the brother fussing. Not…an angel.” He was almost grateful when she gently held a hand over his mouth.

“Calm down, Captain. You didn’t upset, but if you want to make it up to me, you can answer some of my questions.” 

“Depends, ma’am.” 

“On?” He noticed that she had very bright blue eyes, electric almost. They were the exact same shape and color as General Skywalkers. 

“What is your general like?” 

“My general?”

“Anakin Skywalker? What is he like?” 

“He’s….my general.” Rex considered the question, not sure how to answer. “He’s a good general. Dangerous, strong, he tears into the Seppies like they’re wet paper. He’s probably the best Jedi out there, good teacher.” 

“Teacher?” Her bright eyes flicked toward the floor. 

“Yeah, he’s got a padawan learner. Snarky little kid, she’s taking right after her old man.”

“Old man?” 

“Erm, her master.” The woman stalled, her hands on his as she considered his answer. 

“Does his student call him master?” 

“I don’t…sometimes. Usually, she just calls him Skyguy.” 

“I see. Is Anakin Skywalker a good man?” Rex sucked in a deep breath. Who was she? Why would she want to know this sort of information on General Skywalker? Usually, Seppies wanted to know his weaknesses. But she didn’t seem dangerous, but Rex knew not to make assumptions based on appearance. 

“He’s the best one I know,” Rex admitted, “why do you ask?” 

“I have not seen in a long time,” she said sadly, “these last few years have been the hardest with him gone.” 

“Uh, does he know you?” 

“I hope so,” she patted his cheek, “you’re well on your way to recovery. You’ll need more time with bacta bandages.” 

“How long until I can walk about?” 

“A few more days, Captain, but don’t try to get up now. Joints are very sensitive. Overworking them while they’re injured is a sure fire way to hurt them even more.” 

“That’s what the medics keep telling me,” Rex wasn’t sure why, but he was totally at ease with her. He wasn’t afraid, and he wasn’t worried. 

“You will listen this time, Captain,” she told him, rising to her feet. “Or I’ll be upset with you.” 

“You won’t be the first I’ve upset.”

“Maybe,” she fished something out of her pocket, a comm unit. “But then I will tell the cook to make you porridge breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” 

“I like porridge,” Rex said, just to be contrary. 

“Of course you do.” She was gone in a second, slipping through the heavy wooden door, and leaving Rex in silence again. 

#$#$#$#$

“This is almost dumb enough to qualify for a Banite act,” Shmi watched the Sith Lord storm back into her office holding a broken datapad. “Dumb, dumb, and dumb. Shmi, why are people so stupid?” 

“I don’t know,” Shmi sat down opposite the enormous desk, sighing as her knees ached. “What is so stupid?” 

“Your son and that little captain of his were sent to find the slaves that we rescued last week. The slaves we rescued from Gardulla. Those damn fool Jedi are actively working for the Hutts. I will take immense pleasure in burning their temple to the ground.” 

Shmi raised her eyebrows, and Darth Oculus rolled her eyes. 

“When I exterminate the perpetrators of the crimes and send the small children home to their parents. You know that any regular Sith would simply desire to kill every Jedi in the galaxy?” 

“I know, but you are not a regular Sith. You can destroy your enemies without reverting to Banite tricks.” 

“Bah,” the Sith waved a hand grumpily and dropped the broken datapad to the desk. “If this area becomes a hotbed of Republic activity I am going to kill someone. I don’t know who, but I will kill someone.” 

“Oculus , my son. How is he?” 

“Stupid,” Oculus sat down heavily, “very stupid. Didn’t want to give the intel. I had to threaten his little captain.” 

“Oculus , that is my son! I haven't seen him since he was nine!” Shmi stood abruptly, “what did you do to him?” 

“Nothing he couldn’t handle,” Oculus rubbed her nose, “and I still haven’t ascertained if he is a danger to this operation or not.” 

“Captain Rex says he is a good man.” 

“No doubt Captain Rex suffers from a certain amount of bias. Shmi, if you go speak to Anakin, there is no telling what kind of a meltdown he could have. He may not remember you. The Jedi could have beaten the attachment out of him.” 

“I am his mother,” Shmi told her, “I did not speak to him before out of respect for you; but if you get between myself and my son, my respect for you ends right now. I will speak to Anakin.” 

“Go,” Darth Oculus continued to stare at the broken data pad, ignoring the older woman. “If he burns this place to the ground in a fit of Jedi-inspired vengeance, so be it.” 

“He won’t,” Shmi assured her, but she wasn’t so sure. It had been 13 years since she’d last seen Anakin before he’d crashed onto her new home. It was a long time to spend away from home, away from their mother. 

Could Anakin have forgotten her? Would he have forgotten her? Could the Jedi have erased his memories? She descended further into the palace, reaching the dungeons and stood just outside his cell.

She remembered how shocked she’d been when he crashed and Oculus had called her to the palace. The joy at seeing her son, the horror at seeing him suffering so much. Elation and worry all mixed into one as the doctors worked furiously to keep him alive. She’d waited outside the bacta tank, sleepless for days on end as he recovered. 

Anakin, her son, was here. He was here, just around the corner. She could hear him breathing; she knew he was just a few steps away. 

“Are you going to come out of hiding?” His voice cut through her whirling thoughts. It was steady but annoyed; no hint of the pain he was in. “Or are you going to lurk?” 

“I am not sure,” Shmi replied after a moment. Of course, he could sense her. He was a Jedi. One of the strongest Jedi in the galaxy. He was the Hero with No Fear. 

“Why?” 

“You are Anakin Skywalker.” 

“So?” 

“You are a Jedi.” 

“Am I in a Sith’s prison?” 

“Yes, but Darth Oculus won’t hurt you,” Shmi promised, “she promised not to hurt you.” 

“Then what the hell was throwing me into a wall? That hurt.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you still hiding?” Metal shook, he must have been leaning against the metal bars. 

“I…” Shmi took a deep breath again. “You’re a Jedi general.” 

“So they tell me.”

“Years ago I had a son. He was taken by the Jedi.”

“I…I’m sorry.” 

“He was the light of my life; I loved him more than anything. I still love him. I thought that if he was with the Jedi, he would be safe. They would give him a future I couldn’t.” 

“Your son is lucky to have you,” Anakin muttered, his boots scraped against the ground, and she heard the cot groan as he sat down. “My mother sold me.” 

“WHAT? She did not!” 

“She did too. She sold me, she and Watto split the profits after I won the Boonta Eve Classic.”

“Who told you that?” Shmi couldn’t move, weights keep her in her spot. Her fury rising with each word her son spoke. 

“Why do you care?” 

“Who told you that your mother sold you?” Shmi demanded, and Anakin scoffed. 

“My master,” Anakin sighed, “and I went to find her a year and a half ago. I went to save her. I went to find her; I didn’t hate her. I don’t. But she wasn’t there, Watto was dead. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to tell her…that it was okay. She managed to buy her own freedom.”

“No, Anakin. No, your mother didn’t sell you. She would never put your life in danger.” Shmi around the corner, running the few feet to his prison cell door, “Anakin,” the melancholy fell off his face, turning swiftly to shock and disbelief. “I would never have done that to you. Never. I hated when you were forced to race. Anakin, you have to believe me! I would never have let that race happen if it had been up to me.” 

He stared, but was at the door, intertwining his fingers with hers. His brilliant blue eyes were wide and filled with tears. 

“Mom?” 

“Ani, I didn’t sell you! I didn’t! You have to believe me! Please believe me!” 

“Mom?” His knees gave way, and he collapsed against the metal door, staring up at her as if couldn’t believe what he saw. “Mom?” 

“Anakin, can you hear me? Please, Ani, can you hear me?” 

 

“You’re…here? What are you doing here?” 

“I was rescued, Ani. Darth Oculus saved me. She saved me; she’s been helping me. Ani, do you?” 

“You said,” Anakin opened and closed his mouth a few times, swaying back and forth. “You said you didn’t sell me?” His wide, tearful blue eyes fixed on hers with desperate hope, a terrified child stared up at her, and no matter how many years had passed since she’d last seen her son, Shmi would always know him. “Mom, please, tell me. Mom, you didn’t, please.” 

“I didn’t,” she rasped, falling to her knees and reaching through the bars to seize his shoulders, “I didn’t, Ani. I promise you, Ani. I didn’t, please, please say you believe me! Please, Ani, my love.” 

Anakin swayed, his eyes eye closing as he rested his head against the metal door. He was shaking, from terror or fear, she couldn’t tell. “I believe you,” he said faintly like he didn’t believe anything coming out of his mouth. “I believe you.” He opened his eyes; tear slid down his face. “I believe you, Mom.”

“You,” she seized him into a hug despite the bars separating them. “I’m so sorry, Anakin. I’m so sorry. I should have come for you. I should have…” Shmi started to cry, unable to continue speaking.

“Mom,” she could feel the heat of his tears. “Mom,” he was crying just as hard, sobbing as he clutched desperately. “You’re alive! You’re here! How are you alive? What happened? What did Watto do?” His words fell away as the breathless sobbing only worsened. She didn’t know what to say, only that she didn’t want to let him go. She couldn’t stop holding him. 

Eventually though, when his crying turned to hiccups, Anakin pulled away, his eyes red and swollen. He stared at her as if he couldn’t believe she existed. 

“Ani,” she fished around for the key to the cell door, only to realize that it was still with Darth Oculus , and to get it, she would have to go back upstairs. She would have to let go of Anakin. “Oh, my sweet, Ani.” 

“How are you here?” His voice crackled, he held onto her as tightly as possible. He leaned his right shoulder against the door and held her close. “How?” 

“Oculus , on one of her searches,” His hair was soft as if he was regularly using cleaner. Darker than she remembered, but still blond. “She saw me an offered me a chance.”

“What kind of a chance?” 

“The kind to help people, to help slaves like us, Ani.” 

“Help?” 

“She liberates slaves, Ani. She does so much more than that. This whole planet is under her control; she commands an anti-pirate fleet.”

“But she’s a Sith.” His bottom lip wobbled, but she steeled himself. “Sith build Empires off slaves. They don’t save them.” 

“Maybe the Banite Sith do,” Shmi had heard this particular rant from Oculus to know the vein this conversation was going to take. “But Oculus is from the line of Darth Revan.” 

“How do you know this?” His shock was almost amusing. “This is…Jedi business.” 

“Ani, what are you doing investigating for the Hutts? Why?” 

“I?” His eyes dipped toward the ground, shamefaced in a way she was too familiar with. The humiliation of having to follow orders without the right to decline. “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry. It isn’t your fault.” 

“Did Oculus , did she really free them. Did she really help them?” 

“Yes, Ani, she helps people.” 

“But she is a Sith.” 

“I’m not saying that she isn’t….violent.” Shmi shuddered as she remembered exactly what Oculus was capable of; the blood that she’d shed. “Or a Sith, but she does good, and she saved me.” 

“Did she make you stay here? If you have to leave, Mom. I’ll call Padme; she’ll help you. She has the money.”

“Padme?” She blinked, “the angel?” 

“Ah,” his blush hadn’t changed in the intervening years. Starting at his neck and sweeping over his cheeks and ears until his whole face was bright red. “My wife.” 

“You’re married!” 

“We got married right after I went to find you a few years ago,” Anakin swallowed heavily, “we’re married. If you need a place to stay.” 

“If you were married, why didn’t you leave the Jedi?” Shmi reeled. She’d missed her son's wedding. He was married! 

“I didn’t…” he floundered, “I’m just…the war. I couldn’t leave the Jedi while the war was going on! They need me. She’s a senator; she needs to be in the Senate to help Naboo. The escalation of the war.” 

“When was the last time you saw her?” 

“Um, about five months ago.” 

“Oh, Ani.”

“I’m fine, Mom. I promise.”

“Tell me everything since you left Tatooine, please.” 

“Everything?” He hedged, looking a little apprehensive. Shmi laughed and nodded. “Well, he sobered and looked at his knees. “When we left Tatooine, we were being hunted.”


	2. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the castle is met.

Shmi had vanished about four hours ago; and by dinner time she was usually reappearing in the kitchen, bring ideas and suggestions on how to best handle expanding their operation. It wasn’t always at dinner time when Shmi reappeared; there were night and weeks when she wasn’t around. A full-grown woman was capable of making her own decisions and spending her evenings how she wished. 

Except that Shmi was still in the palace, and if the strong surges in the force meant anything she was still reconnecting with her son. 

Gods, Anakin Skywalker, was a strong force sensitive, possibly even stronger than she was. If he hadn’t been off balance, which was something she suspected might be habitual, she might not have defeated him. If he were ever to balance himself out, he could be unstoppable. He was perfect Sith material. 

Oculus paused her cooking as another surge rippled through the Force. She slammed her knife into the cutting board and stalked up to her rooms. Pulling out an old set of black robes that would probably fit, Skywalker, she stormed into the dungeon. Both Skywalkers were leaning against the bars, holding each other as close as possible. 

That drew her up short. She’d expected Anakin to reject Shmi, to push her away and cling to his Jedi creed of non-attachment. To see him wallowing in so many messy emotions, holding his long-lost mother close, was stunning. 

“Oculus ?” Shmi looked up, her face breaking into a smile, “what brings you down here?” 

“You forgot the key,” Oculus decided, tossing the small key to land on her lap. “And he needs new clothes.” She waited until the door was opened and Anakin had stumbled through before throwing the bundle at him. 

“I thought you,” he waved at himself and then at her. 

“You are a mama’s boy,” Oculus told him flatly, “I am trusting Shmi to keep you from doing anything that will get you killed.” 

“She’s my mother!” Anakin exclaimed.

“True, but sons have done dumber things,” Oculus considered his hunched shoulders, red eyes, and the overall shakiness. Even Shmi, ever dependable Shmi looked shaken. 

“Come upstairs,” she ordered, unable to stomach any more the sentimentality. “Dinner will be ready soon.” 

“Wait! Where is Captain Rex?” He sounded awfully demanding for someone who was living by the grace of her mercy. Oculus didn’t bother turning around, only tilting her head back a bit. 

“Recovering, faster than you because he is not aggravating his wounds like an idiot. Hurry up, if my pasta boils over I’m blaming you.” She stalked away without another word. Shuffling footsteps behind her told her that the Skywalkers were following. They reappeared twenty minutes later in her kitchen. Shmi immediately taking her usual spot at the table where her cup of tea had already gone cold. Anakin paused in the doorway, gaping. 

“What are you doing?” He stared from the spoon stirring the soup by themselves to the knives chopping and peeling the last of the vegetables without human hands holding them, and then to the dishes that were slowly rising themselves off and stacking themselves in the dishwasher. “This is not how you’re supposed to use the force!” 

“I am a Sith, remember?” Oculus was glad she’d forgone the apron this time. It wouldn’t do to look anything less than totally intimidating to the Jedi fumbling around her kitchen. Though, given how his eyes focused on the knife in her hands, the apron might not have lessened the worry in his eyes. “I do not limit myself to simpering Jedi ideas of how I would use my power.” 

Anakin puffed his chest up, and Oculus took a moment to admire how well he filled out the robes. He looked nothing like a Jedi, not with red-rimmed eyes, a furious set to his jaw, and an ugly furrow on his brow. He was like Sith, wallowing in his emotions, burning with anger, and absolutely unapologetic about it. Even with one arm, he could probably give her a run for his money. 

“Anakin,” Shmi’s voice cut through the impending violence, “Oculus. The kitchen is neutral ground if you want to fight then take it outside.” 

“You’re not afraid of me hurting him?” Oculus returned to her dicing. The Jedi dropped into a seat beside his mother. 

“I have been on the front line of a war for over a year and a half,” he snapped.

“I have been on the front lines of a war for two and a half decades, Skywalker.” 

“I was going on missions with my masters when I was 12,” Anakin jutted out his chin, missing out his mother’s eyes tightened. “I know how to fight.” 

“Think you can beat me with one arm tied behind your back?” 

“Hey!” Despite himself, Anakin looked impressed, and he shook his head. “I have plenty of skill.”

“If you didn’t you would have died on your attempt to make it safely through the rings. Impressive, better pilots than you have died trying to do the exact same thing.” 

“There are no better pilots,” Anakin seethed, and Shmi set a calming hand on his arm. 

“Anakin won the Boonta Eve Classic when he was nine,” Shmi reminded her, and Oculus sighed. She’d heard the story dozens of times. 

“Yes, yes, you’ve told me. It doesn’t mean that he’s better than I am.” 

“I’ll race…I want to see Rex.” The sudden derailment of the conversation was enough to make Oculus look over his spoon at the Jedi. He was standing again, looking obnoxiously like the epitome of a righteous Jedi. If it weren’t for his Sith robes and the very un-Jedi like glare. 

“He’s asleep,” Oculus grunted as she slid the chopped vegetables into the soup, “you can bother him after dinner.” 

“You are the strangest Sith Lord I’ve ever met,” Anakin announced, sitting back down and reaching for his mother’s hand. 

“Which ones have you met?” 

“Dooku,” he paused, “Ventress.”

“And what makes me strange?” She could probably guess the answer. 

“You haven’t tried to kill me,” and Shmi gasped. 

“Ani.” 

“It’s okay, Mom.” And wasn’t that strange to hear? Shmi was known as Lady Shmi to Oculus ’ contacts and Aunt Shmi to the other people who lived on the moon. “I’m fine.” 

“Ani!” Oculus turned her back to the familiar reunion, seething as she tossed the food together with a little more violence than probably necessary. 

“You going missing is going to throw up red flags, Skywalker.”

“What will you do?” Shmi asked. 

“That is a conversation not for Jedi ears,” Oculus trusted Shmi implicitly, but not her son.

“Anakin can know,” she said, blindsiding the Sith, “he can help.” 

“Help,” Anakin asked, “help with your operation?” 

“This is conversation for after we eat,” Oculus, and she glowered at Anakin until he subsided. His angry glare turned to soft adoration as he looked back at his mother. 

“Then will you tell me how you found my mother?” 

“It was on Tatooine; I went into that bugs shop. I killed him. Your mother agreed to come back with me here.” 

“That’s not,” he’d clearly been angling for a story. “Mom?” 

“It wasn’t very complicated,” Shmi said quietly, “Watto was dead before I even had time to leave the back room. I…Ani, do you remember that droid you built?” 

“C-3PO! I never finished him!” 

“You messed up his programming something fierce,” Oculus told him, turning her back to the stove and leaning against the counter. “I’ve never met a fussier droid in my entire life.” 

“He’s here!” 

“I brought him with me,” Shmi said proudly.

“Complained the entire flight from that sandball. “

“Where is he? Is he alright! Did you ever get plates over him?” 

“Yes, lovely red ones. He’s probably in the control room.” 

“Where’s the control room?”

“You aren’t going into my control room, Skywalker.” 

“I built Threepio; he was my friend! I want to see him.” 

“I’ll take him,” Shmi said, “we’ll find neutral ground.” 

“No, I have a feeling you’re going to spill everything to him as soon as I’m out of the room. He’s a Jedi, and I don’t trust him.” 

“That’s true,” Shmi said, looking not at all apologetic. “I will tell him.” 

“I’ll go, just don’t let dinner burn. Junior, come with me.” 

“Alright?” It wasn’t until they reached the outer parlor that Oculus realized that Shmi had maneuvered her into spending a few minutes alone with the Jedi.

“So,” he coughed, and Oculus rolled her eyes. 

“What is it, Jedi?” 

“Is my mother alright?” 

Oculus hadn’t expected that. He was so far subverting her previous expectations and experiences with Jedi. She cut her eyes to him, and as tense and nervous as he was, he was almost calm. 

“She’s fine, you’ve seen her.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t…seen her. You’ve been living with her…right?” 

“Yes.” 

“So is she alright?” 

“She fine, she recovered well enough too. If anything, she ought to be worried about you. You nearly didn’t make it.”

“I’m fine.” 

“Ah,” Oculus gestured Anakin to wait outside the control, “that is it. The old Jedi codes, lying to yourself.” She left him steaming.

“Lord Oculus! Thank the maker you are here!” Threepio shuffled across the room, “a message from Csilla has been intercepted. I believe you should see it.” 

“Thank you, Threepio.” She clasped her arms behind her back. “Speaking of the maker, would you like to see him?” 

“Excuse me?” Threepio cycled his optics, managing to look confused despite a lack of face-plates. 

“The maker, Threepio, would you like to see him?” 

“My maker? Master Ani?” The gold eyes brightened. “Master Ani is here!” 

“Just outside, come with me if you want to see him.” Oculus watched the now flustered droid waddle toward the door, dithering and muttering to himself. 

“Threepio!” Oculus managed to stick her head out of the door, just in time to see Anakin throw his arms around the droid, hugging him fiercely. “You’re okay!” 

“Oh, Master Ani! I am so pleased to see you.” The droid tried to return the hug. “You probably don’t recognize me with my gold arm.” Anakin pulled away, getting a good look at the red plates that covered him, and the gold plates over his right arm. 

“You probably don’t recognize me with only one hand,” Anakin laugh, gesturing with his stump. Fabric flapped around, and Oculus made a mental note to get him a few pins. 

“Master Ani! What happened? You are missing a limb!” 

“I know, Threepio, I was there when it went missing. How are you? You look fantastic. Red is a good look for you.” 

“I am doing very well, Master Ani. Lady Shmi has been taking very good care of me. I was very pleased to leave Tatooine. By the maker, I am still finding sand in my joints.” 

“I hate sand,” Anakin made a face.

“Since this reunion is going to take a while, Threepio, escort Junior to the kitchen when the dinner chimes go off.” 

“Of course, Lord Oculus, it will be my pleasure. Master Ani, if you are still as skilled with mechanics, could you perhaps look at my diagnostics? I have been having trouble with my servos recently.” 

“I sure will,” Anakin exclaimed, the bright smile on his face not dimming as the droid shuffled his way toward the shop. “Tell me where it hurts, Threepio.” 

#$#$#4

“We could always ask his wife for help,” is the first thing Oculus heard as she re-entered the kitchen. Shmi stood over the stove, her dark hair curling around her face. 

“Jedi don’t get married,” Oculus said.

“You have also told me that Jedi do not have attachments,” Shmi told her pointedly, “and my son loves me.”

“Only idiots do not love you.” 

“Senator Amidala would help us; she was the one.” 

“AMIDALA!” 

“Yes?” Shmi glanced to the side, concerned, “Anakin married Padme.”

“Padme Amidala, Anakin Skywalker married her?” Oculus stared at the ceiling, slowly counting to ten. Only Banite sith lost their temper when they got the news they didn’t want to hear. She was a Revan Sith; control was second nature at this point. “How did Anakin Skywalker marry a Senator?”

“He fell in love with her when she and Qui-Gon came into Watto’s shop,” and Oculus wanted to break something. Maybe several somethings, because she knew this story. How the Jedi came to Shmi, and took Anakin and left her to live the rest of her days as a slave. The girl and the Gungan, Oculus ignored. The girl and the Gungan, two Nubians who now held the seats of representative power of the Chommel Sector. 

And Anakin Skywalker was married to a senator. 

A Jedi was married. 

“Jedi don’t get married,” Oculus said, trying to work out how the Jedi would have gotten away with it. “They aren’t allowed to get married. Having attachments goes against the core tenant of the Jedi doctrine. That your son is married means that they would have had have relax standards, or he’s married in secret. 

“He was married in secret,” Shmi said sadly, “the little blue and white droid who once came to visit with Padme, was their only witness.” 

“They need to get remarried,” Oculus blurted, and sighed when Shmi glanced at her. “They won’t accept a droid as a witness.” 

“They are married.” 

“When it gets out, it’ll be called into question by the galaxy at large because they didn’t have a sentient witness.”

“The droid counts,” Shmi said stubbornly, “but the galaxy is very….cruel to droids. It counts to me; he is married.” 

“I don’t dare disagree,” Oculus rubbed her head, “why couldn’t your son have been a tax accountant?”

“I don’t know anything about taxes,” Anakin announced, all but bounding into the kitchen. “I’ve never paid them.” 

“Nor have I,” the Sith said after a moment, “where is goldenrod?” 

“Getting an oil bath,” Anakin began sniffing around the kitchen, poking at the food in pots and sampling liberally. Oculus had to smack him away from the still cooling bread. “You aren’t like any Sith I’ve met.” 

“So you’ve said,” she crossed her arms, glaring at him until he retreated to the table and took a seat beside his mother. “And you aren’t like any Jedi I’ve ever met.” 

“I am a good Jedi,” Anakin straightened, glaring. There was something else in his glower though, a desperate, pained need to prove himself. He was a Jedi, he had to be a Jedi, and there was so much hurt radiating off him that it took every ounce of self-control for Oculus to not lick her lips. So much pain and hurt, the darkness that lurked just beneath the surface. It was a pain that swallowed everything…and. 

“Why aren’t you on anti-depressants?” She demanded, having finally realized exactly what sort of dark this was. “Or anti-anxiety medications?” She stormed over, reaching for his shoulder and tilting him back in his chair. 

“What?” 

“I’m a Sith, Skywalker. I know darkness, I know pain. I know what I am looking at. The darkness that clings to you has nothing to do with morality, but severely underserved mental health. Bah, and how many times have you been electrocuted?” 

“A few times,” he admitted, glancing at his mother, deeply confused. “And there’s nothing wrong with me.” 

“There are many things wrong with you, Skywalker. I am a Sith; I know the Dark possibly better than anyone.” She probed at him, feeling out with the Force to see what pinged back. “Yuck, how does anyone stand around you when you’re awake?” 

“What?” 

“Your presence is like a bruise,” Oculus set his chair back on all four feet and stepped away, “the Force itself is pain around you. I have never seen anything so pitiful.”

“Pitiful!” He jumped back to his feet, insulted. “I am not pitiful. I am a Jedi.” 

“If the other Jedi feel like you, I’m going to be physically sick,” Oculus moved back to the counter, serving up a plate of food and setting in front of Shmi. Her eyes were wide and worried. “The only way I’ll be able to defeat you is by blowing chunks all over the room.” 

“Excuse you?” The insulted, amusingly high pitch of his voice almost made her laugh. If the situation had been so dire. 

Oculus shoved plate at him. He took it, looking down and then back up. “Eat,” she ordered. 

“What is wrong with you?” He demanded, making no move to obey. The darkness around his thrashed, confused and angry. She had to step away to keep from being touched by it. There was something otherworldly and terrifying about the sheer amount of power that was at his fingertip. “Why don’t you act like a Sith? What kind of Sith are you?”

“I’m in the line of Revan,” she told him, twirling her knife in her hand. “I am not a Banite Sith, which is the line you’ve met in the past. Now shut up at and eat or I’ll drag you out of the kitchen and beat you senseless.” 

“OCULUS !” 

“HEY!” 

“If threats are what he wants from a Sith, then threats he’ll get.” Strangely enough, that was enough for Skywalker to drop back into his seat, and pick up his fork. “There’s more food on the stove if you’re still hungry.” 

The meal passed in silence; each person occupied with their own thoughts. Oculus finished first, and decided to have a droid to the dishes, and left mother and son alone to go out back and work through her tension. 

#$##$ 

As soon as the Sith left, Anakin dropped his head into his hands, groaning miserably.

“Ani?” His mother’s hand touched the back of his gently, ghost-like. He looked up, almost unable to believe that she was real. 

“Mom,” he held her hand reverently and smiled despite his mounting worry. “I’m okay.” 

“Hmmm,” she pierced him with a look that was worse than he ever remembered. It pinned him to his seat.

“I’m worried about Ahsoka,” he blurted, before clamping a hand over his mouth. He glared and huffed when she laughed. 

“Boys never outgrow their mothers,” she said. “You told me Ahsoka is with Obi-Wan.”

“She is, and that’s worrying. She always goes above and beyond and tried to prove herself, usually hurting herself, just to get his approval. I don’t want her to get hurt. I’ve been away from the war front before. I don’t like leaving Ahsoka behind. When she gets left behind and hurt, I’m expected to leave her. Once, she and another padawan were stuck in a cave-in, and Luminara was fine with leaving Bariss there. Not even bothering to try and look for her lost padawan. Then, when Ahsoka was kidnapped, they told me that if she was a good enough Jedi, that she’d find her way back. Except she was trapped on a planet with other previously kidnapped padawans and was being actively hunted! For sport!” Anakin froze, feeling worse than he had before. “I just want to keep her as safe as I can,” he admitted softly. For a moment he poked at his food. “Are you really alright, Mom? She hasn’t done anything to hurt you?” 

“Ani, when you’re done, I want you to talk to her.” 

“What?” That was the last thing he expected to hear from his mother. 

“You need to talk, Ani. I don’t know what exactly the future will bring, but I know that you and Oculus are better off as allies instead of enemies.” 

“She’s a Sith!” He sputtered, offended and annoyed. He decided to ignore the voice in the back of his head that said that she was right. 

“And you’re a Jedi, and she only tried to kill you a little.” 

“She tried to kill me?” 

“Yes, I wouldn’t allow it to happen. The Force drops my son back into my life. I would have fought her rather than ever let anyone take you away from me ever again. You are my son.”

“I,” Anakin wrestled with himself for a moment. “Where would she go?”

“It depends. She may be coordinating in the control room, or she could be out working off steam.”

“Coordinating what?” 

“The rescue operations,” Shmi handed him a shaker of seasoning. He dumped a hefty amount on his plate. “Lord Oculus rescues slaves from all over the outer rim. She fights the pirates and slavers, carefully to remain anonymous, but she does it. If the Hutts are asking for Jedi assistance, then they must be fed up at having lost to her so often.” 

“So she thinks the operation is in danger?” 

“It is in danger,” Shmi sighed, “the war is going to force us out into the open.” 

“If this is a slave rescuing operation, then why don’t we get out into the open. Why doesn’t Oculus make a move? I mean, she’s a Sith, but she’s rescuing slaves!” 

“She is a Revan Sith, and at the moment the Banite Sith are more powerful than she is.” 

“But,” Anakin faltered, “if me coming here was going to endanger the whole operation then why didn’t she…just…send me back without me waking up?” 

“I wouldn’t let her,” Shmi admitted, “I couldn’t let her send you back without speaking to you. You are my son, and I have already given you up once.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Anakin told her, smiling when the relief broke across her face. “You’re my mom, and I love you.” 

“Ani, you thought that I sold you. I…you have been living with the pain of thinking that…and I..I’m.” He held onto her hand and shook his head. 

“You don’t have to say anything else, Mom. You don’t have to apologize; it’s alright. I guess… we were both lied to.”


	3. Cody

Rex woke up for the second time that day to the bright, dying light of the day. The rings cast an enormous shadow across the countryside, and Rex had to marvel at the sight before he turned his head as the door banged open. 

General Skywalker walked through, holding a plate of food in his hand, and a loaf of bread tucked under the other arm. 

“Rex! How are you doing?”

“General,” he tried to sit up, only to be nodded back down. “I’m fine; I thought you were injured.”

“I am,” Skywalker set the plate on the floor and bread on top of it. “Are you ready to eat?”

“Yes, I thought we weren’t welcome here?”

“Well,” Skywalker shrugged cheerfully, “I’m going to be working that out with our hostess as soon as I’m done here, but so far we’re okay.” Rex groaned as Anakin helped him into a sitting position, and fluffed his pillows. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Captain.”

“You don’t look so good either, General.” That was a lie. He had never seen Anakin look so relaxed and calm. “There was a woman in here earlier, this morning I think. She wanted to know about you. She was asking questions.” 

“Questions? Why kind of questions?” Rex was suddenly arrested by the thought that Anakin and the mystery woman looked a lot alike. 

“What kind of a man you were. Um, what I thought of you, and other stuff like that.” Rex considered the memory, “she was nice looking, didn’t seem like trouble. Sometimes you don’t know, but I think she’s okay, but she knows you. She said it'd been a long time since you’ve talked.” He watched the look on Anakin’s face turn soft and pleased. The Jedi reached out and patted his head. 

“There’s nothing to worry about, Rex.” 

“She also seemed to think my flirting was funny. Which isn’t fair because I never get the chance to practice.” 

“You flirted with my mother!” Anakin demanded, and Rex felt the word smack him around the head. He slumped back onto his pillows, staring at him, confused. 

“Mother?” 

“My mom! That is my mom! You flirted with my mom!” General Skywalker looked too confused to actually be upset. Rex floundered for a moment before blurting. 

“You have a mother?” 

“Where do you think I came from?” Anakin demanded, picking the plate back up and setting it on his lap. The bandages wrapped around his hand didn’t look as clean as they should. 

“I know where true born people come from, sir. I just…I’ve never heard you talk about your mother. I’ve never heard any of the Jedi talk about their parents.” 

“Well,” Anakin looked awkward, “not a lot of Jedi know their parents. We’re not supposed to, but I was taken when I was nine. I knew my mom.” 

“You’ve got a mother?” Rex tested out the words, “she looks so much like you.” 

“I do look like her.” 

“And now I know where you go your height.” 

“Oh, yeah. Mom wasn’t that much shorter than Qui-Gon. Watto used to have to try really hard to be taller than her.” Anakin’s voice choked off, and he watched the sun sink further down the horizon. 

“General?” 

“I…” Anakin shook himself, “you need to eat.” 

“Yes, sir.” He tried to pick up the fork, trying to wind his bruised and busted fingers around the handle. He hissed in pain and tried again. 

“It’s alright,” Anakin picked up the fork and held a mouthful up for him. 

“I don’t.” Rex stared at the forkful of food, feeling a little stupid. He wasn’t sure why he felt stupid, or why he was blushing. There was something strange about his actions, and they felt like something Rex couldn’t name. 

“I’m here to help, Captain,” the Jedi smiled encouragingly. “It’s alright.” 

“Feels a little strange,” Rex muttered, tilting his head forward and taking a bite. “Thanks,” he said past a mouthful of delicious food. “What Intel have you got. Ma Skywalker said that there was a lord who lived here?” 

“A Sith Lord,” Anakin told him, offering another bite. “Her name is Oculus. So far she isn’t making a move to kill us. I have to talk to her when you're done to make sure that that doesn’t change.”

“Another Sith?” 

“Another Sith, but she’s dangerous. We are in her house, and we have to proceed with caution. Also, Mom is her advisor of sorts. I think they’re working together, but they haven’t really told me everything.” 

“Damn,” Rex swallowed another bite. “You’re hiding something.” 

“Yes,” to his surprise Skywalker didn’t seem keen to share. He offered the clone another bite. “How do you feel?” 

“Pain,” Rex said, leaning back into his pillow, sighing. It hurt more than he wanted to admit. 

“It’s okay, Rex.” Anakin brushed a hand through his hair. “Mom said she’d come up with the medic to get you into a bacta tank.” 

“How come I’m not already in a bacta tank?”

“No idea,” Anakin admitted. “Here, eat.” 

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence until the end when Rex spoke up. “What are you going to negotiate with the Sith Lady?” 

“Well, we don’t have a lot of leverage. We’re in her house, on her planet, and eating her food.” 

“But Ma Skywalker?” 

“I don’t know, Rex. I’m not as good at negotiating as Obi-Wan, but I think.” 

“You’re better,” Rex interrupted, not feeling bad in the slightest when his general scowled at him. “I was there on Pantora. He tried to negotiate on his terms, not theirs. You’re better.” 

“Thanks?” Anakin looked startled but nodded. “I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.” A knock came at the door, and his mother stepped through. “Mom!” 

“Ani,” Rex stifled a laugh, and sheepishly avoided looking at Anakin when he glared. “Oculus is in the training field.” 

“Okay,” Anakin stood, “you’ll be okay, captain. Where is the training field.” 

“Follow the sound of screaming and breaking weapons,” Shmi leaned over to kiss his cheek as he passed by. “Please don’t get into a fight.” 

“I won’t promise anything,” Anakin grumbled, mostly to see the smile on her face; and felt for the vortex of hate and anger that was Darth Oculus. It led him through the enormous manor and past a back garden and into an area that looked like a quarry. Except that there were blaster market, lightsaber scars, and impact craters all around it. In the center was Oculus standing perfectly still as lightning crackled around her. 

He’d been electrocuted enough that he stayed at the edge of the quarry, and waited for her to notice him. For a moment it seemed like she was going to ignore him, but Oculus raised her arms, and the lightning exploded upward. The static raised his hair, and he could taste ozone in the air. 

He didn’t have time to jump back as Oculus bounded up the quarry walls until she landed neatly beside him. Electricity still sparked around her fingertips. 

“Did Shmi send you? “

“Thank you,” both the Jedi and Sith were surprised by the words coming out of his mouth. The tense line around her mouth lessened some. 

“For what?” 

“Saving my mother. For getting Shmi away from Watto.” 

“You don’t have to thank me for that, Skywalker. I didn’t do you any favors.” 

“You saved my mother,” Anakin protested, watching the woman hoist a few rocks into the air and begin to shred them with an almost inattentive fashion. 

“I got her out of that hellhole by exacting justice. That isn’t something you should be thanking me for. Justice is what you should have expected, demanded. You don’t need to be grateful for it.” 

“I am anyway.” 

“Then you need help, Skywalker.” She drawled, “now, what did Shmi want us to talk about?” 

“Maybe I came on my own,” Anakin defended, watching dust and rubble collection the ground beneath the stone. 

“You would rather be fussing over your young captain. A job I assume Shmi’s taken on.” 

“Well, when was the last time you won an argument against my mother?” 

“Point,” Oculus nodded, “but not the question I asked.” 

“She wanted me to talk to you.” 

“About?” 

“She wasn’t really specific,” Anakin shrugged, “but since we’ve talked, I think we’re done here.” He took a step back as the last of the rock crumbled to the ground. 

“Not so fast, Jedi,” Oculus told him, and Anakin sighed. “What do you want?” 

“I’m,” Anakin shrugged, “where do we go from here, Oculus ?” 

“I put that question to you, Skywalker. Where we go from here depends on you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, Skywalker. Are you going to report me to the Jedi?” 

“You’re a sith!” 

“Are you going to report my operation to the Sith? Are you going to tell them about the slaves I’ve rescued? Will you return them to Gradulla? Will you report Shmi’s involvement?”

“What?” 

“Do you think they will allow this operation to continue? Do you think your mother will stay out of prison?” 

“Why would they put mom in prison?”

“She’s aiding and abetting an enemy of the state.” 

“No one even knows that you exist!” He exclaimed, and Oculus shrugged.

“I am a Sith, that is enough to get me arrested.” 

“You don’t seem like any Sith I’ve ever met. You don’t want to conquer that galaxy and like, eat small children.” 

“I do actually. Not the eating the small children part, but conquering the galaxy. I want to conquer the galaxy.”

“Why?” 

“I’m a Revan Sith, but I’m still a Sith. Conquering the galaxy is still on our agenda.” 

“It seems like too much work,” Anakin admitted. “I don’t care about the Jedi. I won’t let anyone else hurt my mom. Even you.”

“I would never. But what will you do? Will you leave, call the investigation a bust? Stay and bring the galaxy on my head as their model soldier goes AWOL?” 

“I?” 

“You have a choice here, Anakin. Stay with the Jedi, destroy us and become an even grander hero.” 

“I would never let anyone throw my mom in prison! The Jedi left her as a slave! I’m not letting anyone else hurt her!” 

 

“What will you do to protect her?” 

“Anything.” He clenched his fist, glowering. “I’ll do anything.” 

“What about your wife?” 

“My…Mom told you?” 

“Yes, a Senator. How did you manage it?” 

“I love her very much,” Anakin said and tensed. He’d only told two people how he felt. His wife and his mother. 

“If you abandon the Jedi, what about her?”

“I don’t know! I won’t leave my mom again! I have…Padme.” 

“Right, so we’ll need to work out a plan. You do want to retire from the Jedi, don’t you?” 

“I…” Anakin’s usually tan face turned ashen. 

“I’ll give you a few days to think about it. Don’t feel pressured. Besides, I think this qualifies as a talk.” 

“Same here,” but he looked upset and confused. Looking between Oculus and the quarry. “What? Are you going to?” 

“Ah,” Oculus adjusted her sleeves, hoping to escape before Anakin asked an awkward question. “Alright, come with me.” 

“Go where?”

“There’s work that goes on out here that means nothing to the Core. Alliances and politics that a Core-worlder could never hope to understand. There’s a planet out here the patrols the edge of the Unknown Regions. They’re aliens, long-lived, intelligent, and they don’t attack unless they’re attacked first. I monitor their communications for information, and one just came in today. Apparently, there’s something called Outbound Flight.”

“I know that one! I was supposed to be on it. I was pulled off to investigate. The Chancellor asked me to.” 

“The Chancellor asked for you specifically?”

“Erm…yes.” 

“The Chancellor of the Republic, asked for you?” 

“Yes?”

“Does the Chancellor of the Republic, currently at war and dealing with a budget crisis, often call for you by name?” 

“Erm, he always had. Ever since I joined the Jedi.” 

“You joined when you were nine.” She said flatly, and Anakin shrugged. 

“He’s my mentor.” 

“Why?” 

“Why what?”

“Why is he your mentor? He’s been Chancellor for years, and you tell me that he has had time for you all this time? Why would he, a politician, take time out of his schedule for a Jedi?”

“Erm, my wife does.”

“Your wife…Palpatine wants something from you.” 

“No, he doesn’t!” Anakin protested, “he’s my friend.” 

“A friend with an agenda. Skywalker, he’s a galactic leader, and you’re a Jedi. He either wants an in with the Jedi or.” She paused, looking him up and down. “What does he want with you?” 

“The Chancellor is a good man and my friend,” Anakin protested, following Oculus into a room full of droids and computer consoles. “What is all of this?” 

“My workstation. The rest of my people have gone home for the night. I thought it might be safer. I didn’t know how much trouble you’d be.” 

“Right,” Anakin paused and glanced around. “This is impressive. Where did you get all of this?” 

“Generations of Revan Sith have been building this up. Revan and her wife Bastila founded this planet when they faked their deaths.” 

“You mean for the last thousand years the line of Revan has been trying to…save slaves while the other line of Sith have trying to take over the galaxy? Why?”

“The two lines of Sith went to war generations ago. Mine was defeated, the Banite went underground, and the Jedi reigned supreme.” She lit up the holo-device and a message appeared. It was a man, his eyes were wild and frantic, terrified as he kept looking over his shoulder. 

“This is a member of the Outbound Flight crew, and we need help. The Jedi called C’baoth is crazy! We need help! He’s taking over the ship. He’s going postal. The other Jedi won’t do anything to stop him! Please, we need help.” The message vanished and Anakin sucked in a deep breath. 

“Skywalker?” 

“C’baoth is crazy,” Anakin said, “he’s an arrogant jerk, and he forced his own former padawan to go on Outbound Flight. I was supposed to go, but…. What are you going to do?” 

“There’s a transmission we intercepted, asking Outband Flight to leave Chiss space. I’m afraid that while the Chiss don’t attack unless they’re attacked, there is a bit of a maverick out there who could be trouble.” 

“What are we going to do?” 

“We?” 

“They’ve asked for help!” Anakin exclaimed, “we have to help them. Power isn’t good in an arrogant Jedi.” 

“Help was already sent out,” Oculus told him, grimacing. “This message is the first of a few. Someone did go out.” 

“Who?” 

“I don’t know. I’m waiting for my agents to get back to me. They’ll gather the intel and we’ll act on it. If you’re serious. You may need to fight the other Jedi on-board. He wouldn’t have taken charge without the support of the other Jedi.” 

“But why…” Anakin paused. “Outbound Flight….C’baoth is going crazy. It already had a million troubles before and during launch. The Force felt…strange while I was on the ship. I know that I don’t have any evidence, but I have a feeling about this whole thing.” 

“Like it could have been sabotaged?” She raised an eyebrow as she flicked through her messages. “You have a strong intuition. I would listen to it. If you think that it could be sabotaged then you’re probably right.” 

“I’m supposed to be…more.” 

“Skywalker, I know that the Jedi tend to not believe you, but there is something to be said for intuition.”

“Yeah,” he rubbed his nose, shrugging. 

“We’ll wait to tackle this problem in the morning. You’ve had a difficult day I’m sure, and I’m sure you’d like to bask in the presence of your mother a little longer.” 

“Yeah, so….what is she? I mean, she’s changed.” 

“Yes, Skywalker. She has. People do that, but she’s still your mother.” 

“But.”

“I know a few things,” Oculus told him, “and I have learned a few things since your mother came to live here. First, she is a dedicated woman who the galaxy does not deserve. Second, that she is a devoted mother, and that she will always love you. You haven’t stopped loving her, have you?” 

“Of course not!” Anakin protested, and the Sith Lady shrugged. 

“Then most of the hard work is already done,” she clapped his shoulder. “Come, we’ll deal with whatever this is tomorrow.”


End file.
